


The Long Day

by Esta Camille Lupin (edye327)



Series: I'll Be Loving You [8]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Parent Newt Scamander, argument, domestic newtina, idk - Freeform, newtina, newtina argument, parent newtina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-10-03 09:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10241582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edye327/pseuds/Esta%20Camille%20Lupin
Summary: Newt has had a shitty day at work and takes it out on his family. Arguments and angst ensue. In the end, however, it only serves to bring them closer together. All the Newtina family feels.“I do want to be with you!” Newt insists. It dawns on him too late that he hasn’t been showing it.“Really? Because all you’ve been doing is coming home when you would clearly rather be at work, either staying up until long after I go to bed or going to sleep right after dinner, and you haven’t even read to the kids in weeks.”“I love you,” Newt says quietly.“Yes,” Tina says through her tears, “but sometimes that’s not enough.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fennethianell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fennethianell/gifts).



> Angst for angst's sake.
> 
> This started out as an angsty argument Newtina oneshot for Fen. It evolved into a full on domestic, family-oriented miniature fic. Fen isn’t feeling well, so I thought I would post this as a feel better thing. Much of the children’s dialogue is taken pretty much verbatim from real life conversations I've had.
> 
> Please note, Newt is absolutely a good father and the point of this fic was to write something absurdly dramatic and hyperbolic, so please don’t be mad at me for portraying him as such a dick or making the argument so angsty. Besides, he’ll redeem himself at the end.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a fight breaks out.
> 
> “I do want to be with you!” Newt insists. It dawns on him too late that he hasn’t been showing it.
> 
> “Really? Because all you’ve been doing is coming home when you would clearly rather be at work, either staying up until long after I go to bed or going to sleep right after dinner, and you haven’t even read to the kids in weeks.”
> 
> “I love you,” Newt says quietly.
> 
> “Yes,” Tina says through her tears, “but sometimes that’s not enough.”

_1935_

Newt is in a terrible mood. He began his day by shouting at an idiot trainee who accidentally let half the creatures in rehab loose. They’d been able to wrangle everyone back into the center, but a handful of the beasts were re-injured — stitches torn out, healing bones broken again, fevers from overexertion — which was _incredibly_ poor timing given that three dragons were due to arrive that afternoon. Newt set his veterinary staff to work triage, causing them to fall behind schedule on the other creatures’ needs.

When he finally received the dragons three hours late, the critical information files he was promised would accompany each were missing, and one of them happened to be seriously ill with no prior mention of any illness. After he finished quarantining the irascible dragon and finding space for the other two, he received a scathing letter from a publisher disparaging his entire manuscript and suggesting that he seek another “hobby.”

All in all, by the time he gets home, Newt is ready to punch a wall. Only for the sake of seeing Ally and Graham had he taken a risk and allowed a hopefully trustworthy intern to stay late and finish things up so that he could make it back to his family by half six. He knows he’s been absent lately: a ring of smugglers was discovered in Uzbekistan, and for some unknown reason creature cruelty and abuse has been on the rise. This means later nights, more beasts, not enough staff, and no time or energy left to work on his book. He must admit that he also suffers occasionally from tunnel vision, but as far as he can tell his behavior hasn’t really affected his family. After all, Tina has certainly stepped up to the parenting plate ever since Ally was born and Newt’s career took off.

When he opens the door, however, Tina’s kneeling down and comforting a hysterical Ally while Graham sulks in the corner. There’s no dinner in sight, the apartment is a mess, and Newt nearly turns around and leaves.

“Daddy!” Ally cries, launching herself at him. He feels terrible at the frustration bubbling up when she does, but he pries her arms from around his neck and drops her back onto the ground.

“Daddy’s tired,” he says brusquely. His daughter’s face falls. _Dammit._

“Newt,” Tina says, eyes flashing a very clear warning.

He takes a few calming breaths.

“Well,” his wife groans as she gets to her feet, “I’d better start on dinner.”

“It’s nearly six o’clock,” Newt snaps.

She raises an eyebrow at him. “So?”

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what his answer is. _So, you’re supposed to have food on the table when I get home from work._ What is _wrong_ with him? He’s never like this, never one to take his wife or family for granted. And yet.

“Fine,” Tina says smoothly. “Grammy, apologize to your sister.”

The three-year-old trots out of his corner and glowers at Ally. “Sorry,” he says insincerely.

Ally looks at Newt helplessly. Normally he’d step in, tell Graham to give a proper apology, but this time he turns away bitterly. Resigned, his poor little girl says kindly, “It’s okay.”

Tina is glaring daggers at Newt from the sink. He avoids eye contact and retreats into the bedroom to change, closing the door with considerably more force than necessary. All but ripping off his tie, casting his waist jacket aside and kicking off his shoes, Newt stands, panting, in the middle of the room. It’s his family, for god’s sake. It’s his job to put on a brave face. He’s mature enough not to take his anger out on his innocent children. He is.

He must ask Jacob how he manages to be so jovial all the time. The Kowalski brood is quite lively, to say the least, but by some miracle both Jacob and Queenie seem to manage the chaos seamlessly. Jacob has yet another branch of his bakery opening up in London this summer, but _his_ long nights and stress don’t take a toll to the degree that Newt’s clearly do. Perhaps there’s some sort of little-known charm or potion for strung-out fathers.

“Honey?” Tina calls from the kitchen. With one more sigh, Newt returns to the living room.

“Yes?” he asks in a less-than-pleased voice.

“We’re out of milk and eggs.”

“So?”

“So,” Tina says in a dangerous voice, “I need them for dinner. Ally has to keep drinking milk, the Healer said we’re barely keeping her weight up as it is —”

“Alice is _fine,”_ Newt retorts.

“Whatever is going on ends now,” Tina says through gritted teeth. “Honey,” she continues loudly in a normal, superficially cheerful voice that fools no one, “if you wouldn’t mind getting some milk and eggs, I can get started on the rest of dinner.”

Resentment turns Newt’s vision red. “I just changed.”

“You can go like that,” Tina says offhandedly, and begins chopping up vegetables.

“I just got home.”

“Newt, I’ve been home all day with the kids, who’ve been at each other since breakfast,” she says in exasperation. “I’m only asking for ten minutes of your time.”

He glares at her; steam might as well be coming out of his ears. “I’m tired.”

“You’ll feel better after dinner,” she says shortly. A wave of her wand sends the chopped vegetables into a large bowl. Then she turns to Newt, one hand on her hip and leaning her side against the counter. “Could you _please_ go get the milk and eggs?”

“God, you’re just like Leta sometimes,” he snarls, and instantly regrets it.

Tina’s face goes cold. “What did you just say?”

“I’ll go get the —”

She grabs him by the wrist, glances over at their children — who, for once, are playing nicely together — and leans closer. “What is your _problem?”_ she hisses.

“I’m sorry, I’ve had a long day —”

“So have I!”

“Yes, but you haven’t —”

“You really want to go there? Should we start comparing our days and argue about who works harder? Because if so,” she says, slamming a cutting board on the counter, “then dinner is never going to be made.”

“Fine, I can eat elsewhere.”

“You’re _kidding_ me.”

Before he can shoot back at her, he feels a tug on the hem of his shirt. Glancing down, it’s his daughter, who asks in a small voice, “Daddy?”

“What?” he snaps.

“Graham bit me.” She holds up her hand and sure enough, there’s a nasty red bite mark. Tina has been dealing with their son’s biting habit for weeks now; he notices a few more marks on Ally’s wrist and looks at his wife questioningly. She nods: those were from today. _Well, I was dealing with hordes of traumatized beasts,_ he defends himself unconvincingly.

“What do you want me to do about it?” he asks Ally.

“Why are you angry?” she says imploringly. “I didn’t even cry.”

His heart breaks. Everyone knows that Ally is his favorite, that she’s been his kryptonite from the first time he held her. He’s lost his patience with her only a few times in the past four years. But at this point, he’s utterly and completely done with everything, and finds himself brushing past even the little girl he loves more than life itself.

“Come here, sweetie,” Tina murmurs, kneeling down to inspect the injury.

“I’ll be back,” Newt mutters. Ally turns around and gazes at him dolefully, while Tina’s expression is indescribably _not_ okay.

He steps out onto the landing and stands there, trying to calm himself. Just as he’s about to Apparate to the store, however, he realizes he forgot his shoes. With an angry groan, he opens the door again and Summons them from the bedroom. Unfortunately, his son, toddling around the living room, is caught in the crossfire, and as a result gets smacked in the back of his head, falling forward onto the carpet with a loud yowl.

“Why were you standing there?!” Newt says furiously.

“Newt!” Tina barks. One glimpse is enough to tell that he’d made her cry, that the second he slammed the door her lower lip started quivering and her face crumpled as she gave into tears, carefully hidden from their children. He knows the look, and it wounds him to the core.

“I’ll be back,” he says again, and shoves his feet into his shoes. Graham has sat up on the carpet, sobbing as Tina races over to comfort him.

“Mumma, it’s bleeding!” Ally cries from the kitchen. “It’s bleeding a whole lot ‘cause of the heel —”

“Newt,” Tina stops him in his tracks. “I need a little help.”

“No,” he sneers, “you _need_ milk and eggs.”

Her jaw actually drops before she snaps her mouth shut. “Okay,” she says, and unfolds herself so that she suddenly seems much taller than him. “Grammy, you’re fine,” she tells their son, and gives him a kiss. “Ally, put the bandage on like I showed you.” Ally nods, red pigtails bobbing up and down. “Daddy and I need to have a talk,” she informs both children. “Could you go to the playroom?”

“C’mon, Graham,” Ally says dutifully, taking her brother’s hand. “Mumma and Daddy need to talk.” For once, her brother listens.

Then Tina leans over and slams the front door. Newt, who’d been leaning on it and grasping the knob for support, nearly topples over. Before he opens his mouth, she casts a Muffling charm on the playroom and turns on him.

“Where should I begin?” she asks viciously.

“Er…”

“First of all, I don’t care what kind of day you’ve had, or whether or not you’re mad at me, but you will _not_ treat your own _children_ that way!” she shouts, cutting right to the chase. “Ally’s been crying for you all day, Graham had absolutely nothing to do with you _stupidly_ deciding to send objects flying around the house with young kids running around, and you will _never_ ignore your injured daughter OR son again.”

“I’m not mad at you —”

“You’re doing an awfully good job faking it, then!” she yells. “You think it’s easy staying at home and dealing with biting and crying and Ally always wanting you and asking why you have to be gone so long? Graham — you’ve barely been spending any time with him, and he knows it. There’s a reason he’s biting, Newt! It’s because he’s getting no _damn_ attention from his own father!”

“I…” Newt knows she’s right; he’s been wearing thinner and thinner in the past few weeks. Much as he loves his son, Ally has always been easier to engage, and try as he might he can’t help but have slight favorites. It’s easy, therefore, for Graham to fall by the wayside.

“And now,” Tina says, her voice trembling, “should we talk about _Leta?”_

He flinches. “That was very poor judgment on my —”

“I don’t care what kind of judgment you had!” She throws her arms in the air helplessly. “You compared me to the girl who broke your _heart,_ who’s the reason you were so guarded in the first place, who took advantage of you when you were just a kid, and no matter how dumb and insignificant it seems, it still hurt you. You compared me to the woman who betrayed you — the woman you’ll never fully forgive.”

Newt’s eyes flicker wildly about the room, falling on kitchen appliances and portraits and upholstery — anywhere but his wife. “I know, it’s only that...” It’s only that what? What sort of excuse could he possibly give at this point?

“No,” she says, blinking away tears. “I understand.”

He looks at her hopefully. “Do you?”

“You wouldn’t have let it slip if you never felt that way.” She bites her lip and shakes her head bitterly. “You don’t say things like that if you don’t mean them. If you feel like I’m the same as Leta, then you don’t ultimately want to be with me.”

His stomach drops. “No, Tina, I’m so sorry —”

“I don’t care,” she says fiercely. “I really don’t, Newt. I love our children. But — but I let Alec walk all over me, and I stayed with him because I wanted to believe that he still wanted me” — now the tears start for real — “and I will _not_ make that mistake again.”

“I do want to be with you!” Newt insists. After all this time, no matter how comfortable or domestic their relationship gets, no matter how much they may bicker, he’s as in love with his wife as he was when he first fell for her. Even more so, in fact. It dawns on him too late that he hasn’t been showing it.

“Really? Because all you’ve been doing is coming home when you would clearly rather be at work, either staying up until long after I go to bed or going to sleep right after dinner, and you haven’t even _read_ to the kids in weeks.”

“I love you,” Newt says quietly.

“Yes,” Tina says through her tears, “but sometimes that’s not enough.”

She turns her back on him as his mouth and brain are working furiously to come up with a suitable response. Taking a deep breath, she wipes her eyes and rubs a hand over her face. Then she lifts the Muffling charm and opens the playroom door.

“Come on,” she says brightly, taking Ally and Graham by the hands. “We need to go to the market.”

“Can I have a treat?” Graham asks earnestly.

She smiles at him, and despite how upset she was a minute ago, the genuine love she has for her _— their —_ son is so palpable Newt nearly tears up himself. “Of course you can,” she says warmly, squeezing his hand. “You too, Al.”

“What about Daddy?” Ally asks in concern.

Tina doesn’t even look at him. “Daddy’s tired, but he’ll be here when we get back.”

Graham steps in front of his mother and raises his arms. “Uppy?” he says angelically.

Although Newt knows that she’s been doing her utmost not to coddle the kids, Tina picks him up and plants a kiss on his cheek. “It’s been a long day, huh?” she says quietly. He nods and tucks his head into her neck.

“Bye, Daddy,” Ally says a bit forlornly, and the door shuts behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just updated [chapter 79](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/22196105) of TWMLLO with a new illustration, so go check it out :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tina's excursion to the grocery store doesn't exactly improve her day, and Newt makes preparations.
> 
> “That is my son,” Tina says coolly. “He's no different from any other children.”
> 
> “With all due respect, I think it's pretty obvious that he is.”
> 
> The cashier seems as appalled as the other shoppers; Tina, for her part, is downright enraged. “With all due respect, I think it's pretty obvious that you don't know what you're talking about,” she retorts, slamming her purse on the counter.
> 
> The woman bristles. “I'm not an idiot, I —”
> 
> “Well, you're doing a damn good impression of one,” snaps Tina. She hurls a few wampums and dragots at the cashier, then grabs the milk and eggs. “Keep the change.”
> 
> P.S. I feel like there's an unspoken mic drop at the end as Tina leaves the store. Hope you enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a snow day tomorrow so I thought I’d post this!
> 
> Damn it's really hard to write child dialogue... I mean, despite years of childcare it's so hard to capture their exact mannerisms and sometimes the things they say look stupid on paper.
> 
> I laughed about [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mh4f9AYRCZY) for probably 10 minutes straight, and it lowkey made me think of Newt trying to have a Very Important Interview and the kids running in and mobbing him. He would probably give up on professionalism and just let them all climb on his lap tbh.
> 
> Enjoy!

Tina had plenty of doubts going into parenthood. Queenie was a natural mother, all smiles and warmth and beauty from the start. Tina, on the other hand, was never known for being much of a “kid” person. She was a bit too prickly and bookish at Ilvermorny; her friends’ younger siblings always preferred Queenie when they met during breaks and got invited to beach houses during summers.

All of that changed, however, the moment their little Alice Emilia was born. Of course Newt had been there for the entire birth; although fathers usually left the room, he was adamant about not leaving her side and, unlike Jacob with his first son in ‘28, he didn't faint.

The people at Panacea’s maternity ward were great fans of his by the end of the ordeal, and given the amount of births he had already witnessed and aided with his creatures, they pretty much let him handle the whole process. He caught Ally two seconds before she announced herself to the world with a blood-curdling scream (a relief, because they knew she was small and a few weeks premature), he cut the umbilical cord, and he placed his newborn daughter into Tina’s arms so they could marvel together at what they’d created. The only thing the nurses had to do was paperwork, and once Tina and Ally were situated, Newt was asked to help with a birth down the hall.

From day one, he was a good father, but _that_ was no surprise; [as Tina had told Seraphina](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9509999/chapters/21638282) and anyone who had to listen to her fret and panic as her due date grew nearer, she knew he would be. (In response to said fretting and panicking, Sophia had at one point informed her that she was very lucky to be pregnant and weak, or else she would've received [the same overdue slap as Newt](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9509999/chapters/21637304).) What was more surprising to Tina was the realization that _she_ was a good mother. Having taken care of Queenie for years, it shouldn’t have been such a surprise, but it was.

Now, still reeling from her fight with Newt, Tina can only think that the kids come first. The love she may share — or shared — with her husband has always been intense and impenetrable. But the love of a parent for their child is unrivaled by any other.

“What’s wrong with Daddy?” Ally asks the second they leave the apartment.

Tina sighs. “He’s tired,” she says stolidly. There's obviously more, but far be it from him to communicate, she thinks, anger mounting. No, he just takes it out on their children. _Great parenting, Newt._

Ally’s red pigtails waggle as she shakes her head. _She_ doesn't buy the lie for one instant, and presses, “Why is he angry?”

It's so unfortunate sometimes, how perceptive children can be. Even if they don't vocalize their thoughts, they recognize body language and facial expressions and tone of voice, better even than adults.

Probably because _they_ don't have fights with their spouses or screaming kids or jobs or life in general to stress about.

“Don’t worry about it.” Tina didn't mean to sound so harsh. She adjusts her grip on Graham and squeezes her daughter’s hand, too tired to apologize. Surely Ally will realize this isn't about her. “We’re almost there.”

“Mumma?” Ally inquires a moment later.

“Yes?”

“Daddy loves you.”

Tears spring to Tina’s eyes. “He loves _you,”_ she corrects her.

“But I came from you.”

“What?”

“I came from your belly,” Ally reminds her.

“So?”

“So Daddy loves me _because_ I came from you.”

“It’s — that’s different,” Tina struggles to explain. “You’re your own person, Al. Daddy can love you without loving me.”

The look of horror on Ally’s face is so reminiscent of Newt that it hurts. “If Daddy doesn’t love you, then I don’t love him,” she professes, the most innocent and heartwarming pledge of loyalty.

“Thanks, sweetie,” Tina says softly, and pats her daughter on the head, making a note to redo her plaits when they get home. Joanna, their nanny, had suggested a haircut the other day, but Tina has grown somehow attached to Ally’s little auburn ringlets. She never pegged herself for _that_ kind of doting mother. Then again, stranger things have happened.

Graham is almost falling asleep on her shoulder as they reach the door of the grocery store. “Grammy, I have to put you down,” she tells her son. “I’m sorry.”

His fingers tighten around her collar. “No.”

“Graham —”

“I need you,” he says. He learned to say that recently, the rascal.

Tina manages to pry him off of her. “Hold your sister’s hand,” she instructs, grabbing a shopping basket.

“They won't look at him funny, will they?” Ally whispers.

Tina’s jaw clenches, but she says calmly, “They know us here.” It's a wizarding marketplace, and people here are, by nature, generally more progressive than No-Majs. After all, No-Maj America _still_ hasn't had a female president. Nonetheless, [having an adopted son of color in the 1930s](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9676955/chapters/21856199) inevitably ruffles some feathers. The stares, she and Newt have learned to tolerate. What they can't tolerate so well, however, are the comments, generally directed at Tina by other women.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, you couldn't have another child?” they’ll ask, peering at Graham pityingly as though he was a last resort. One time this was said during an outing with Sophia, who promptly informed the speaker that Tina's reproductive system was in fine working order, unlike their brain.

After three years of this, Tina usually ends up smiling very fakely and saying, “This _is_ my other child,” steering Newt, if he's there, away from the situation before he goes off on a rant about the stigmatization of adoption.

“It doesn't make sense,” he always says bitterly. “All the children on the streets, in orphanages, and nobody wants them because they're too hung up on having their own. It isn't _fair.”_

Graham trips and falls as they cross the threshold, knees striking the floor only slightly but enough for an overtired, hungry toddler to fall apart. “Oh no,” Ally despairs, leaning down to help him up as he starts to cry.

“You're okay,” Tina attempts to soothe her son. He stops for a moment, gazing at her with his lower lip trembling, then begins wailing again. “Hold this,” she sighs, handing Ally the basket and lifting her son. Wearily, she says, “Let Mumma see,” and pulls up his trousers.

There's absolutely no mark, and he didn't have far to fall, but extenuating circumstances make his reaction rather valid — in fact, this is about how Tina feels right now. Sometimes she wishes _she_ could get away with throwing tantrums in the middle of the grocery store after a truly rotten day.

“You're okay,” she repeats. He buries his face in her neck and sobs.

“I'll go get the groceries,” Ally offers helpfully as Tina rocks back and forth, shushing her exhausted son.

“Thank you,” Tina says sincerely. They really did get lucky with their first and, despite the current meltdown, lucky with their second as well.

In true toddler form, Graham has now begun the gleeful process of milking his pseudo-injury. Tolerant as she is, Tina is smart enough to know when the jig is up. She puts him down — he bawls — and takes his hand.

“You're fine,” she says a bit more sharply than before. “Let's go find your sister.”

He drags his feet, still acting every part the injured child, and even after Ally trots over, her muscles straining to hold the milk, he continues to yowl as though he's in immense pain. Tina knows he's not. The other shoppers, however, don't.

“Mummy, they're staring,” Ally whispers as they get in line.

“Let them,” Tina replies shortly. Any wise mother will understand that sometimes, the child needs to cry it out. If they're coddled to death, they'll never learn how to self regulate.

But unfortunately some mothers _don't_ understand this, and some women haven't been mothers in so long — or at all — that the only thing they see is a negligent parent with a crying toddler. A _black_ toddler, to boot.

“Excuse me,” one childless woman finally says snobbily. “Could you please make your son stop crying? It's disrupting the rest of us.”

 _Really?_ “We’re just leaving,” Tina answers tightly.

“It's only that, you know, he shouldn't be crying like that…”

Tina raises an eyebrow. “Why not? He's a three-year-old.”

“Perhaps you should try other disciplinary methods.”

She did _not_ just go there. “Oh? Such as what?” They’ve already gathered an audience: onlookers thus far appear various shades of disapproving.

The woman leans in closer, as if everyone can't hear what she's saying. “Well, sometimes physical force is effective, especially if —” She has some tact, then, and stops herself. Too little, too late, as they say.

 _Especially if the child is colored._ It is clear as DAY that this woman would be far less likely to suggest spanking or any type of discipline had sweet light-skinned Ally been crying. “That is my son,” Tina says coolly. Ally stands on tiptoes to hand the slack-jawed cashier their items. “He's no different from any other children.”

“With all due respect, I think it's pretty obvious that he _is.”_

The cashier seems as appalled as the other shoppers; Tina, for her part, is downright enraged. “With all due respect, I think it's pretty obvious that _you_ don't know what you're talking about,” she shoots back, slamming her purse on the counter. “And if this is the way you view motherhood, then — _with all due respect —_ you're going to be a pretty awful mom.”

“I _am_ a mom,” the woman says, visibly shocked at Tina’s audacity.

“Oh, sorry, you _are_ a pretty awful mom, then.” Okay, that may have been a bit far. But the other mother is looking at her with such palpable disdain that it’s warranted, really.

The woman bristles. “I'm not an idiot, I —”

“Well, you're doing a damn good impression of one,” snaps Tina. She hurls a few [wampums and dragots](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/21065147) at the cashier, then grabs the milk and eggs. “Keep the change.”

“He's _my_ brother,” a little voice says at her side. All eyes swivel downward to the girl clinging onto Tina’s trouser leg; Ally looks about as fierce as a 30-pound four-year-old can possibly look.

“I'm sorry, sweetie,” the offending woman says in alarm.

“Don't call me sweetie,” Ally retorts scathingly, and Tina almost laughs. “I don't like you.”

“I wouldn't bother Tina Scamander’s kids,” someone warns from behind them. “She's a bit of a hero nowadays, and I hear her husband has several acres worth of wild beasts at his bidding.”

The woman gapes, realizing exactly whom she's just insulted six ways to Sunday. “You're —”

Tina feels incredibly smug. “Thank you,” she replies, and makes her exit, slamming the door behind her.

“I _hate_ her,” Ally declares heatedly once they get outside.

Part of Tina knows she shouldn't encourage such language and behavior in her young daughter. But the other part is exceedingly proud to have raised such a wonderful child — her concerns about Ally being on the meek side have _certainly_ been quelled — so she nods. “Me too, Al. Me too.”

* * *

Newt messed up.

He knows it, Tina knows it, and their kids probably know it, if the glare he received from Graham when they left is any indication.

He has to fix this.

He would go to Queenie, but a trip to the store, even with two whiny children, won't take very long. Instead, he rummages around in the cupboard until he comes across the list of cooking spells Jacob had given him as a wedding gift. “You never know when you might need an instant romantic dinner,” he’d told Newt with a cheeky smile. “Marriage ain't all sunshine and roses, I can tell ya that much.”

 _For emergencies_ is scribbled at the top of the page. Grinning despite himself — his brother-in-law was honestly his first real friend in New York, and he couldn't ask for a better one — Newt runs a finger down the list and begins hastily removing the ingredients he needs. Thankfully, he finds them all in no time.

It isn't going to be as glamorous as Jacob’s cooking, that's for sure. And it would seem that Newt is generally romantic only by accident. But he's determined to at least _begin_ to make amends, so he opts for a candlelit dinner with their best porcelain and napkins folded just so. A quick dash to the front yard and he's able to gather a bunch of flowers from the small garden bed. He doesn't bother changing his clothes (and the messy, overtired kids will probably detract significantly from the otherwise romantic mood) but hopefully Tina will appreciate the gesture.

He loves her. That’s what counts, right?

“Right,” he says to himself, running a hand through his hair. Everything is in place, the food smells passable, and he has not burned the house down.

Now that dinner is well underway, he takes on his next task. The living room and playroom are still covered in toys and crumbs — one of the joys of having kids — but a few housekeeping charms later, it's all been taken care of. He even goes into their room and makes the bed, arranging the pillows like Tina used to, before everything became too chaotic to bother with such ministrations.

God, Tina does a lot, doesn't she. They're trying to save up for future plans, so they've been using Joanna a bit less, leaving his wife to pick up the slack. The amount of energy it must take for her to watch the kids all day, _and_ make sure the house is clean and there's dinner on the table by the time Newt comes home... he really must stop taking her for granted.

Before he can sit down and try to relax for more than a second, Queenie’s head appears in the fireplace. He jumps; although Sophia is quite fond of popping up out of nowhere and yelling at or else inconveniencing him greatly, knowing that he’ll always help (because, frankly, she's got him wrapped around her little finger as much as his own daughter does), this is the first time Queenie has used Floo powder. It must be an emergency, then.

The Kowalski household doesn't seem as though it's in much better shape than his own. Newt can hear the kids wailing in the background — it sounds like Nessa and Zaze, but he recognizes Jakey’s shriek from countless family events — and Jacob swearing as there's a resounding crash. It's rather reassuring, actually. So he's not the  _only_ one.

Queenie looks understandably dismayed as she starts anxiously, “Honey, if you wouldn't mind — _Isaiah Mikhael Kowalski,_ don't even _think_ about it — babe! Could you — oh, rhatz! Nessa’s undressing — get _down,_ Jakey — so help me... sorry, Newt.”

“I'm a bit busy,” he tells her.

"And I'm not?" It's fair.

"Do you —" he begins.

Cutting him off, Queenie reminds him of why he's eternally grateful that he and Tina only have the two. “Agnieszka!” Newt is impressed. Queenie has now played the full name card twice: the ultimate parental warning. (He and Tina have only had to do that a handful of times, he thinks with excessive self-satisfaction.) Jacob can be heard intervening with Nessa, accompanied by several loud clatters. “Babe — _babe —_ don't drop her on her head — anyway.” She faces Newt again from the fireplace and sighs. “You fought with Teenie?”

Newt knows Legilimency doesn't work through the Floo network. “How do you —”

“Soph taught me the art of reading you a long time ago,” Queenie says dismissively. “You have — JACOB! Some help, please? — you have a Tina Look on your face.” He seriously wonders what his “Tina Look” is, seeing as this is apparently an official _thing_ and has been ever since he met Sophia in 1927. “So, what are you gonna do?”

“Erm... I made dinner.” It sounds incredibly lame, even to Newt’s ears.

“Oh, honey, it's gonna take more than that,” his sister-in-law says. Her expression is a great deal more pitying than Newt is strictly comfortable with.

He doesn't have time to ask what _she_ suggests before he hears footsteps outside. “Tina’s back,” he says hurriedly.

“Well, get a wiggle on!” Queenie says with an encouraging wink, then whips around and barks, “JAKEY, _off!”_ There's a thump as her son dismounts whatever item of furniture he'd evidently been climbing; satisfied, she turns back to Newt and blows him a kiss. “Good luck, honey.”

He’ll need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sophia is a main OC from the mother fic of this series, _[Then Will My Love Linger On](archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/20955185)_ , so go check it out if you haven't already!
> 
> The comments that the women make to Tina are all too real, because my mom got that reaction all the time when she was planning to adopt. Women would shower her in pity and didn't believe her when she insisted that she was adopting out of choice. Smh.
> 
> Jacob and Queenie’s kids:
> 
> Mordechai Jakub (Jakey), b. 1928
> 
> Agnieszka Amelia (Nessa) & Isaiah Mikhael (Zaze), b. 1931 
> 
> Agnieszka is for the godmother of this fic and my illustrator, [Fennethianell](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fennethianell) (in TWMLLO canon Nessa is named for Jacob’s grandma), and my ex's friend Isaiah is called Zaze and I always thought that was cute (even though I hate my ex; if anyone follows me on Tumblr, he's the "I felt like you thought I was below your standards academically" guy). 
> 
> And Queenie would totally give her kiddos nicknames like that.
> 
> If any of you are parents, please tell me about any war stories you have from disastrous grocery store experiences. I feel like every parent has at least one. (I mean, sans bitchy woman, but like in terms of kids throwing tantrums)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Newt puts the kids to bed, complete with lots of angsty introspection, and the dam breaks.
> 
> When he tightens his grip to pull her in, so that they're nearly close enough to feel each other’s heartbeats, her arms twine around his neck, her head rests on his shoulder, and he has to blink back tears because this long day could have ended in so many other, worse ways. And so they just breathe and hold on.
> 
> When they pull apart, Tina presses her forehead against his. Her eyes have come alive, glistening with emotion, and it is beautiful. Stunning. She’s stunning.
> 
> “I love you,” they say simultaneously, and both give slightly watery laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had lots of inspo for this chapter, which I’ve detailed in the end notes. Fen told me there were some supportive comments on chapter 1, so thank you to those commenters, and to people who’ve messaged me on Instagram! I so appreciate the support, and I'm excited to go through my inbox eventually.
> 
> This chapter just got longer and longer, and strays away from Newtina at points to be super angsty about Newt’s relationship with his kids. Which you can skip over and get to the end. But I dunno, family’s such an important thing and finding a balance is so difficult and I can’t seem to help writing about that.
> 
> I also have my Ally faceclaim at the end, for anyone who’s interested.

When Tina returns, the apartment has been cleaned up and smells delicious. Poking her head in a bit cautiously, her gaze falls on the table, where Newt has laid out what appears to be some sort of romantic dinner. For his wife and two little kids.

“Daddy!” Ally cries, and this time he picks her up willingly when she goes to hug him. Graham follows suit; Newt holds one child on each hip and leans in to kiss Tina hello as well (she turns her head so he kisses her cheek instead) in a balancing act that would be impressive if he hadn’t just compared her to Leta Lestrange.

“I'm sorry,” he says quietly.

Tina doesn't know what to say, except that no matter how sweet and romantic Newt gets, it's going to take a lot more than dinner to resolve their earlier fight. Instead, she gives a tight-lipped smile. The slightly crestfallen look on his face indicates that he's picked up on her coolness. Passive aggressiveness, she knows, is probably not the best or most mature route to take here, but oh well. Her husband wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of maturity either.

Newt, clearly trying hard, is annoyingly overeager to help Tina with the groceries. “I can get those,” he says, lifting the milk and eggs. “How was the store?”

“Interesting,” and _that's_ the understatement of the century.

“Oh?”

“Mummy yelled at a _mean_ lady,” Ally announces. Then she jumps onto Newt again. “You made dinner.”

“I did,” he says, pecking her on the cheek before dropping her back to the ground. “Wash up, will you? Help your brother.”

Ally trots over to the sink, drags her stool over (it was made and beautifully decorated by Uncle Theseus last Christmas) so the basin is armpit deep, and manages to scrub her hands. Then she heaves Graham up by his midsection, and stands on tiptoes to grab the bar of soap for him. Once that ordeal is over, Newt and Tina get everyone situated painlessly, and finally, after a _long_ day, are all sat around the table.

“Thank you for the food, Daddy,” Ally says angelically as they tuck in. Honestly, the kids are making this _worse._

“How is it?” Newt asks, looking at Tina.

Truth be told, she isn't hungry anymore and she can hardly taste a thing, but Graham would have spat it out long ago if it was that bad. She manages a fleeting, noncommittal smile. “Good.” It's hard to feel remotely guilty at the look on Newt’s face. Hurt as she is, Tina’s also rather angry with him, and if he's going to bear the brunt of that, then perhaps he’ll learn a lesson.

Beneath her resentment, she knows, is hurt. Perhaps it seems a trivial thing, but Newt’s behavior towards her tonight and in the past few weeks have instilled a great deal of fear and insecurity she hasn’t felt since 1927. He knew what happened with Alec long before she knew what happened with Leta; that seemingly insignificant quasi-relationship is made much more significant by the fact that he kept it so closely guarded. Newt doesn’t guard or withhold information unless it means a lot to him.

Both children are perfectly, almost suspiciously well-behaved at the dinner table. Newt and Tina make stilted small talk, coerce Graham into eating his broccoli, and avoid eye contact. When everyone finishes their meals — Tina chokes down the rest of hers to be polite, while she's pretty sure Newt slips half of his onto his son’s plate — the parents stand up.

“Let me put them to bed,” Newt tells Tina quickly, before she can help Graham down from his high chair.

“Alright,” she sighs, and moves to collect the dishes.

“No,” Newt stops her. “I'll do that, once they're down.”

“Really?” she asks dryly, rather unimpressed.

He flashes a fleeting, awkward smile. “Rest,” he replies.

“I want Mumma,” Graham pouts as Newt takes him out of the chair.

“Mum’s busy. Daddy’s putting you to bed.”

“Can she come later?” This time it’s Ally, and Newt looks like he's just been punched in the stomach. Everyone knows that Ally positively adores her father. Under any other circumstances, Tina would be smug and teasing about it, but despite the fact that every parent appreciates being favored, she knows that whatever happens between her and her husband cannot impact their relationships with the kids.

“Mummy will come later,” Newt promises.

The two children take his hands, albeit hesitantly, and he shepherds them into the bathroom, leaving Tina behind with a table full of dirty dishes and a heart that grows heavier by the second.

* * *

Newt gets Graham and Ally cleaned and into pajamas, singing songs and rhymes to make the process smoother. One benefit to being a magizoologist is that after the amount of mating dances he's done, virtually no amount of children’s songs or absurd playacting can embarrass him. As his kids giggle at his silly rendition of “Five Little Occamies,” Newt wistfully thinks back to their infancies. Even Ally was a handful, as newborns are wont to be. But without fail, just when he was at his wit’s end, at four o’clock in the morning, on two hours of sleep and nearly deafened by the relentless crying, Newt would get a tiny smile out of her, and it was instantly all worth it.

God, but he loves his family.

Ally goes to sleep first, since she tends to be much easier. Both children are tired, though, and have fallen uncharacteristically quiet. Newt has a sneaking suspicion that they’ve picked up on the tension between their parents — it would take an idiot not to.

Wordlessly (which is odd for her, given that bedtime is usually when she transforms into a real Chatty Cathy) Ally crawls under her covers and Newt goes to tuck her in. But before he can say anything, she unexpectedly bursts into tears.

“Oh no — Ally Albatross,” he says in dismay, rubbing her on the back. “What's wrong?”

She shakes her head and takes large, gulping breaths. He has to suppress a smile at the fact that although she matches him most in looks, she cries exactly like her mother. Not that he _likes_ to see Tina cry, but everything about her is so endearing it’s impossible not to be slightly entertained from time to time.

“Does your tummy hurt?” he asks now, prepared to run through the list of possible ailments. Ally shakes her head again. “Did Graham hurt you?”

“No,” she wails, then throws her arms around him.

“It's alright,” he says, even though it's not at all. He kisses her on the forehead to check her temperature: no fever. “Did Mumma yell at you?”

She pauses to give him a very haughty look that catches him off guard. Perhaps she ought to be spending less time with Aunt Sophia, he thinks wearily, because the last thing he needs is a _daughter_ with Sophia’s attitude. “No,” Ally says disdainfully, as though he’s stupid, and promptly begins crying again.

This won’t do. Newt racks his brain, patting her uselessly on the back as he attempts to come up with a solution. Well, Ally certainly inherited his extreme ticklishness, and, utilizing this as a last resort, within seconds he has her writhing around on the bed in hysterics.

“No!” she cries, giggling through the tears. “Daddy!”

He keeps tickling her anyway, until she seems genuinely calm and sits, wiping her eyes with a shuddering sigh. “Chin up,” he reminds her. “Right? There you go,” and she lies back down on her pillow as he carefully folds the blanket over her and smiles. “Now. What did you do today?”

She looks up at him earnestly. “I cried and missed you,” she replies frankly. Oh, bloody hell. _That_ simply isn’t fair.

“I'm sorry,” he apologizes, feeling beyond terrible, and smooths her hair out of her face. “Daddy’s been at work.”

She nods and reaches for his hand. “I don't like when you're at work.”

He thinks of the day he’s had. “Me neither.”

“Daddy?” she asks in a small voice.

“Hmm?”

Of all the things that have ever been said to him, the absolute worst is what comes out of his daughter’s mouth next. “Why don't you love Mumma?”

He balks, his stomach doing something highly unpleasant. “What?”

Ally watches him unblinkingly. “Why don't you love her anymore?”

A long string of swears run through his head. How on earth is he supposed to explain the complexities of their relationship to their own daughter? “I — of course I love her! _Very_ much.”

She frowns. “You yelled at her.”

“I… some — sometimes grown-ups have bad days too,” he says. “But I love her, and I love you.”

“Mummy’s very beautiful,” Ally proclaims dreamily. He strokes her forehead, marveling at the fact that he got to have such a beautiful little girl. Like mother like daughter, he supposes.

“She is. _Incredibly_ beautiful.”

If his daughter is about to start praising every single wonderful thing about Tina, Newt is all too happy to join in. Ally relinquishes his hand to reach for her teddy bear. “And she's very smart.”

“The smartest person I know.”

“She's the best mummy in the world!” Ally declares, and beams, all traces of woe temporarily gone.

“The absolute best,” Newt affirms.

Then his daughter falls silent, so silent that he figures they’re done here and half-rises to turn out the light. But then her darling voice pipes up, “Daddy, you and Mumma are married.”

“Yes.”

“I'm glad you're married.”

He smiles. “Me too. Gladder than anything.”

“Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“I just love you,” she says simply. “You're the best daddy in the whole wide world.”

Doubtful. “Do you think so?”

“Yes,” she insists. Then she rolls over onto her side and folds her hands under her cheek, gazing at him. “Nighty night.”

“Do you want to sing a song?”

She shakes her head. “Grammy misses you.”

How is it that she's so… perfect? Granted, Newt is just a _smidge_ biased, but Merlin’s beard, neither he nor Tina are _this_ nice. He shakes his head, praying that he never takes these moments for granted (particularly once she's older and he’s warding off hordes of boys) and gives her one last kiss. “Nighty night,” he says softly, and closes the door.

Tina is changing into her pajamas, having gotten Graham settled despite her husband’s protests, when Newt finishes putting Ally to sleep.

“Is she asleep?” she asks, stepping out of their bedroom.

“Almost,” he replies.

“I'll go give her a kiss,” Tina says immediately. She looks ready to keel over — mentally and physically, not to mention emotionally — but she never lets a night go by without a goodnight kiss.

It hits Newt that the two of them haven't put the children to bed together in ages. When things were less stressful at work (and Joanna was admittedly spending more time with the kids), the four of them used to sit on Ally’s bed reading books and singing songs. He wonders where those moments went and desperately wants them back.

Despite the chaos running through his head, Newt only nods at his wife and steps into his son’s room. Graham is sitting up in bed, looking through a board book and prodding the moving figures. His disappointment at realizing it’s Dad and not Mum is palpable. Newt deflates even more; these kids will be the death of him, and it's his own damn fault.

“I love you,” Newt tells his son as he walks over and pulls back the sheets. Graham’s face lights up; Tina smiles softly from the door, where she's leaned against the frame, watching. “I'm sorry I was cross.”

Graham throws his arms around Newt’s neck. “I need you,” he says.

“Yeah, he's been saying that all the time,” Tina explains when Newt turns around to look at her, as they always seem to do whenever one of their children says something particularly endearing or funny. _Look how well we did._ “Pretty lethal, huh?”

Very. “Well,” Newt says, and tucks his son in, “I need you too.”

Graham drags Newt into another hug. “Daddy,” he says happily, and Newt feels a mixture of guilt and overwhelming love. This is all Graham wanted, a hug and a smile and word of affection from his own father, and Newt has been blind to it. Blind and selfish.

“Did you have a good day?” he asks without thinking, not altogether sure that he wants to hear the answer.

“No,” Graham answers.

“Me neither,” Newt says. He’s too tired to keep up pretenses.

“Daddy?”

“What?”

“Are you sad?”

Bloody hell, not Graham too. He really is the sweetest boy; Elsie herself said that she wished Newt had been half as agreeable and extroverted at that age. It’s trite to claim that he’s somehow “color blind,” but Newt honestly forgets that Graham was adopted, he seems so much a part of the family — because he is. Anybody who tries to imply otherwise will indubitably face Newt’s wrath.

Unfortunately, the world tends to imply otherwise. Newt is suddenly struck by the realization that _his children are going to grow up._ That Graham in particular is going to have to leave the safety of their home and face inevitable unkindness, prejudice, and discrimination. And all he can do is to be there every step of the way. At least Ally will be at school to look after him, but this innocent, needy little boy may have a tough life ahead of him, in ways that his parents and sister will not be able to fully understand.

This introspection is all good and well, but Graham is falling asleep as they speak and Newt really does need to talk with Tina before she goes to bed. She was right about that too: they haven't slept at the same time for weeks. God, when did this all happen?

“No, I’m not sad. You go to bed now,” Newt says gently. He kisses Graham twice on the forehead. “I love you. Very much.”

“Don't leave,” Graham says plaintively, grabbing hold of Newt’s hand. “I need you.”

“Nighty night,” Newt says firmly, although it takes tremendous willpower to do so. Graham blows a kiss from the bed; Newt returns it, and turns out the light. He hesitates before getting to his feet and quietly slipping out the door.

Tina looks nervous and exhausted when he steps into the hallway. She’s been waiting for him, which he takes as a promising sign. Maybe. “Thanks for the help,” she says.

Newt _knows_ that beneath her carefully level voice, she's hurting. Tina can fool almost anyone; she’s the strong, tough Auror, and nobody ever realizes that she’s upset if she doesn’t want them to. Except Newt.

It's funny to think that once upon a time they were so incapable of communicating it nearly tore them apart. Perhaps they were each too closed off, too wary of letting the other one in, too scared that they weren't meant to be together. Either way, those walls are gone now, and he _knows_ Tina, has every inch and freckle and mannerism committed to memory. He can find her in a sea of a thousand people, he can pick out her voice in a crowded concert hall.

The trouble with being this connected, however, is that her pain becomes his. And it's doubly as painful when he knows that he caused it all.

“It was no problem,” he returns, hating how hollow his voice sounds.

Tina nods as she fiddles with a stray thread on the sleeve of her robe, then looks up. “Look, Newt, I don't want another fight,” she begins, but he shakes his head.

“I...” he starts, excruciatingly unsure what to say. Of course he doesn't want another fight. What he _wants_ is to figure out how to fix what's been broken, to wrap his arms around his wife and never let go, but as today has already proven, it isn't always so simple. “I am so sorry,” he manages. They're empty words: the mingled hurt and anger on Tina's face and the sharp, tense line of her jaw are enough to know that his apologies are falling on deaf ears.

“Are you?” she asks; her voice is steadier than he’d expected. “Are you really?” She bites her lip and ducks her head, eyes flitting to the dining room. Newt stops her before she can move or leave or turn away. She stands there, hopeless, waiting to see what he’ll do.

He reaches up to touch the curve of her cheek, running his thumb along the skin there, right over the spot that dimples when she smiles, and then lets his hand drop to rest lightly, reverently, on her shoulder. It’s silent, so silent that he wonders if time has actually stopped.

Tina is looking at him with mingled emotion in her eyes, and what guts him the most is that he can almost _see_ the ghost of the wall that he’d torn down years ago. That haunted, guarded, frightened expression he had hoped would never return.

She’s so beautiful, and she still doesn’t fully believe it. Not knowing what else to do — spurred on by sheer, impulsive feeling — Newt wraps his arms around her waist and hugs her fiercely, with as much raw emotion as he can, notching his chin over her shoulder and praying that she’ll respond. Because sometimes, he still has no idea what to say.

The truth is, Tina mesmerizes him with everything she does, however mundane, and there's a small childish part of him that's still as unsteady in their relationship as when they first met. It isn't so much that he's scared she’ll leave. He just can't seem to articulate it.

Inexplicably, Shakespeare floats into his head. _Let lips do what hands do._ It was one of the first books they put on their bookshelf when they moved in together. They spent winters sipping hot cocoa and sharing blankets, and [Newt fell asleep more than once to the sound of Tina’s voice as she read to him](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/20955563). Those were simpler times, before work and children caused their relationship to fall by the wayside.

Newt has proven to be a physical person, conveying through touch what he can't verbalize, and he’s been like that from the beginning. But sometimes it isn't enough. He knows that. Sometimes he has to come up with the words, because someday Tina might stop understanding.

She stands there in his embrace, arms awkwardly out at her sides. But when he tightens his grip to pull her in, so that they're nearly close enough to feel each other’s heartbeats, her arms twine around his neck, her head rests on his shoulder, and he has to blink back tears because this long day could have ended in so many other, worse ways. And so they just breathe and hold on.

When they pull apart, Tina presses her forehead against his. Her eyes have come alive, glistening with emotion, and it is beautiful. Stunning. _She’s_ stunning.

“I love you,” they say simultaneously, and both give slightly watery laughs.

It's far from fixed. But it's a damn good start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last scene and the hug are directly inspired by [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAbNZ8YO80k) beautiful scene from _The Office_.
> 
> The “I cried and missed you” is a legitimate thing that my English professor’s son told her when she asked what he did at daycare. The “I need you” is a little boy I babysit (it kills me; he’ll be crying in bed, and obviously I can’t just go in there a million times or he won’t fall asleep, so he’ll be on the monitor going, “Edye! I need you!”). The “Mumma’s very beautiful” conversation stems from my coworker’s daughter, who, when my coworker was waking her up in the morning, said, “Mommy, you’re beautiful!” The “I just love you” is from one of my favorite Five For Fighting songs, “I Just Love You,” which also contains the lines “I'll never stop being amazed / How my four year old girl knows exactly what to say.”
> 
> Last but not least, I’ve chosen actress Claire Foley as Ally. She’s 15 now, but here’s a photo of her when she was closer to Ally’s age in this fic:  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Newt and Tina forgive one another, get chastised by their four-year-old daughter for having a food fight in the kitchen, and Tina receives a love letter.
> 
> If you ever doubt, which I dearly hope you never will — that I will never make you — please read this letter, and look at the ring on your finger, and perhaps you will understand even a fraction of what I feel for you.
> 
> I have loved you from the very first day. And I will love you til the last. With everything I have.
> 
> Yours always,
> 
> Your eccentric magizoologist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is so gross and angsty and mushy. @me WHY
> 
> I haven’t written the Newt/Leta arc yet, but any TWMLLO readers are well familiar with Alec and Tina. If you aren’t, you should go read *charming look*
> 
> I’m just really determined to finish this, and then maybe finish/update a couple of my spinoffs, so I apologize if the writing is hasty and therefore lower quality. I'm just... I don't even know.
> 
> Also, if it wasn't clear, Elsie is Newt’s mom. You should really read TWMLLO, I think *Ewan-like wink* *you would know Ewan if you read TWMLLO* *hint*
> 
> I'm linking the shit out of this one because it's full of TWMLLO references and I'm an organizational freak like that bc this whole universe is very interconnected and I really really try to stay consistent. It’ll be out of context for non TWMLLO readers.

The iciness between them finally thawed, Newt and Tina find themselves in the kitchen rather than their bedroom. It feels more neutral: a common ground for them both to collect their thoughts.

“Cookies?” Tina had proposed, quirking the corner of her mouth and gesturing to the oven.

“Ah, I think you mean biscuits,” Newt replied, also grinning, because [this ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/20986904) [ _is_ ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/20986904) [their tradition, after all](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/20986904).

They're quiet, but amicably so, as they move about their kitchen seamlessly. Inside jokes are resurrected, smiles grow broader, and Tina visibly relaxes.

Upon learning about the disastrous grocery store trip, Newt is ready to hunt down that nasty woman. This is his exact concern: that Graham will inevitably have to face those sorts of people alone, and his parents won't be able to protect him. Newt is positively thrilled about Tina’s response, however, and even more so when she imitates Ally’s unforeseen attitude.

“Maybe Sophia's rubbing off on her, but damn,” Tina says, shaking her head. “You would've been proud.”

“I _am_ proud,” he reminds her.

“Of me or of her?”

“Of us,” he answers, taking her hands in his.

“Yeah, we did good, didn't we,” she concedes a bit teasingly. _There's_ the Tina Goldstein he knows and loves. She bites her lip. “I'm... glad you spent time with them. Thank you.”

“You should not be thanking me for spending time with _our_ children,” Newt says bitterly, leaning against the counter with arms crossed.

“I shouldn't,” Tina agrees, then waits. Ah. So they’re having this conversation now.

“Tina, I... I meant none of it, you know.”

She isn't convinced; who can blame her?

“Really, I —”

“Do you still think about her?” she demands.

Newt recoils, appalled and taken aback. “Th-think about — about who? Leta? No,” he says, horror mounting. “No, never, except —”

It's that last word that's his undoing. Nostrils flared, Tina stands akimbo and snorts. “Right. Yeah, okay, Newt.”

“No, except I — I was angry, because my day was rubbish, and I just said the first — the first thing that came to mind. I was... trying to hurt you,” Newt admits, and hates how the words taste in his mouth. Something ugly came out of him today; if his married friends are to be believed, he and Tina have lasted a lot longer than they without this sort of domestic. And here he has been so determined never to make the rookie error of digging up the past. He was _trying_ to get to her tonight, whether to vent his anger or take out his spite, but it is absolutely no reflection on the strength of his feelings for her.

It sounds dubious at best.

“Great,” Tina snaps. “So what am I supposed to do now? Leave?”

What? She can't be serious. “No!”

The frustrated sigh she heaves is enough to allay Newt’s worst fears: she isn't going to leave. He would be able to tell if she’d actually _meant_ it. “Newt, I’m not gonna sit here and listen to you ramble about how you were trying to hurt me.”

“Th-that’s fair.”

“It is.” Her gaze is steely now. She’s so _obstinate,_ that woman, it’s maddening sometimes.

“I am sorry.” Why does he keep talking?

She slaps a dishcloth down next to the sink and turns towards him, leaning with one hand resting on the counter. “I asked you a question. Do you still think about her?”

The words come out before he can censor himself. “Do you still think about Alec?”

Tina’s knuckles go white where she’s gripping the edge of the counter. “What?”

“I — it’s —”

The timer dings, and the heavenly scent of melted chocolate pervades the apartment. After a brief glare-off, Tina wrenches opens the oven door, yanks a potholder off its hook, and slides the cookie sheet out. “You gonna help me?” she asks, moving the biscuits deftly onto a cooling rack.

“Of course,” Newt says quickly, joining her in the task. Once the last one has been placed, they face each other awkwardly, not sure where to begin.

If Elsie has taught Newt anything about mediating, it’s that sweets make it significantly more difficult to fight. She utilized this method when he and Theseus butted heads as kids, and utilizes it still at every family gathering (particularly since Sophia entered their lives). Place a pile of chocolates at the center of the table, and everyone is too busy eating candy to argue. That, and the food blocks the words coming out of their mouths. So, win-win.

“Are they ready?” Newt asks, poking at a cookie.

“If you want to burn your tongue, then yes,” Tina says with a glimmer of amusement.

He takes this as encouragement, and pops one in his mouth, which promptly feels as though he’s just bitten into a hot poker. Tina looks on with poorly-concealed fondness as Newt yelps and spits out the offending baked good. “Merlin’s beard!”

“You really don’t listen to me, do you,” says Tina exasperatedly, and passes him a glass of water. “You idiot.”

He takes a sip and shakes his head. _“Your_ idiot.”

She sighs, her gaze softening. “Yeah, okay.”

Disaster averted, Newt sidles closer to her. “I do,” he says honestly, in reference to their prior conversation.

She doesn’t stiffen or get angry. Instead, she nods slowly, pursing her lips, and then admits, “Me too.”

Relief washes over him. Of course Tina thinks about Alec, after all those years. He was her first love, possibly the most intense and toxic relationship of her life, and certainly a defining one. As for Leta... well, she does come to mind from time to time. Never in comparison to Tina, except for his poorly chosen insult this evening. But they were good friends for a brief period of time. He’d held out hope, for much longer than he cares to admit, that Leta might contact him again. That she might apologize, perhaps even wonder how he was doing. She didn’t.

"He was my first love," Tina says quietly. "Sometimes things remind me of him."

Newt understands. To be haunted still by these ghosts of the past is unfortunate, but at least he isn't alone. "The same goes for Leta," he admits. "I don't miss her, per se. She... she stopped caring about me the day I was expelled, and I am not altogether sure she ever really did. Care, I mean."

"She did," Tina says with certainty. "Just like Alec. People hurt you, but it doesn't mean they don't care." Although she's talking about Alec and Leta, he reads between the lines.

"I would never —"

Tina stops him. "I know you wouldn't. Ever. I wouldn't have said yes if I had, would I?"

His eyes crinkle at the corner as he smiles involuntarily; no matter how much time has passed, he feels just as elated thinking about his proposal as he did in the moment. "I should hope not."

"You know, [Mom told me that the doubts would always be there](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/21313337)," Tina says. "'You will be married and 80 and still worry that he will find someone better than you,' she said."

"Do you? Still worry?"

"Well, I'm not 80 yet," Tina answers wryly. "But... sometimes."

"You do know that it is quite literally impossible for me to find someone better," he states.

"Sure," and it drives him  _crazy_ when she does the whole skepticism thing. "Sorry," she grins, catching the look on his face. "Can't help it."

"Sometimes, I sincerely worry about your sanity," he says woefully.

"Yeah, you and me both. Hang on — what happened today?” Tina asks, straightening up. He realizes that he’s been so focused on their conversation and rage-cum-pride at Tina's confrontation at the market that he completely forgot why they were fighting in the first place. “I assume something happened,” she adds.

Newt begins filling her in, and by the time he’s done he’s run out of breath. “I should not have taken it out on you,” he finishes ruefully.

“Oh, darling,” Tina says, every syllable dripping with sympathy, and he thinks back — as he always does, because even now she rarely calls him _that —_ to [the first time she uttered the term of endearment](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/21142928). He’d felt so stupidly thrilled over it, because nobody had called him that before, and he hadn’t particularly expected it to come from _Tina,_ of all people. He finds himself rendered rather emotional. “I’m sorry,” Tina continues, and hugs him. “I get it now.”

“There is still no excuse,” he points out, but pulls her closer and runs his fingers through her hair anyway.

“I love you,” Tina whispers into his ear.

“I _am_ very sorry,” he emphasizes.

“Wouldja let it _go_ already?” Tina says in a perfect impression of Sophia, their relationship counselor from day one.

“Very well, I surrender,” he says, holding up his hands in defeat.

“Good,” Tina says, pulling back so she can _look_ at him, hands cradling his face. “[My eccentric magizoologist](archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/20955185).”

“Indubitably,” he whispers, as she runs her thumb across his lower lip before leaning in, and it occurs to him that they haven't even _kissed_ properly in days.

But then, just as his fingers are tangling in her robe, he somehow bumps the sack of flour still half-open on the counter, spilling the white powder all over Tina’s front.

“NEWT!” Tina yells in shock.

“Oh, _so_ sorry,” he apologizes with an impish grin, then dares to lean in and kiss her quickly before she shoves him away, trying and failing to brush herself off. Newt watches her struggle, his arms still wound comfortably around her waist. “What a shame, I suppose you’ll have to take your clothes off now —”

Tina takes the sack of flour and whacks him with it. Damn, he really should have seen _that_ coming. Powder flies everywhere, consuming both of them in a perfect white cloud. “Oi!” he shouts, outraged. Then he seizes the wet dishrag hanging on the sink basin and flicks it at his wife in retribution.

Tina shrieks, trying to shield her face, but Newt isn’t done. He grabs her waist from behind, attempting to lift her, but quick as a whip she spins around in his arms and begins ruthlessly tickling him. He jerks, not expecting the attack, and trips, knocking over an innocent water pitcher sitting on the counter. It shatters on the floor, sending a wave of water right over Tina’s bare feet.

“I will kill you!” she swears, advancing.

“No you won’t,” he shoots back and darts away before she can strike again. “You _love_ me.”

“I can’t believe I _married_ you,” she fumes, repairing the broken pitcher.

Thus commences a ridiculous pursuit around the dining room table, both of them still positively plastered in flour and trying not to be too loud. “You know, I am starting to think that I was very poorly warned about what marriage would entail,” Newt says, jumping forward just to see her flinch. It's the electricity of [their first almost-kiss](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/20986904) and [the exhilaration of their absurd water fight](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/21302408) _(that_ particular tale has gone down in Scamander Island history) combined.

“Mercy Lewis, Newt,” Tina says, then manages to hit him on the shoulder despite his agility. She's smirking, mirth apparent in her eyes and the wry twist of her mouth. “Oh? What did you think it would entail?”

He tilts his head. “Mm, crying children and s —”

“Mumma?” They freeze and spin around. Both of their kids are standing in their pajamas, hair mussed from sleep, gaping at their parents, who are exemplifying the very behavior for which  _they’d_ be put in time-out.

“What're you doin’, Mumma?” Graham asks groggily.

Tina looks to her husband. He clears his throat. “Just — er — just cleaning up the kitchen.”

“Could you please be quieter, then?” Ally asks.

“Yes, Mom,” Tina says, grinning.

“Sorry, so sorry,” Newt adds humbly, bowing his head in shame.

“Come on, Grammy,” Ally says, taking her brother by the hand. He blinks up at her blearily. “Mumma and Daddy need to clean up.” She shoves Graham in the direction of his door, then disappears into her own room.

“Goodnight, darlings,” Tina calls, while Newt waves an apologetic “Nighty night!” Once Ally’s door slams shut, they turn to each other and do their absolute best not to burst out laughing again.

“We’re amazing parents,” Tina comments when she can finally breathe.

Newt loops his arm around her waist and kisses her on the temple. “That we are.”

“You know what would complete the picture?” she asks.

“What?”

With a sly look, Tina crosses to the cabinet and fishes out a bottle of Gigglewater. The drink always makes them think fondly of Ewan, [doing shots with his sister in the midst of total chaos](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/21161111). Not that alcohol is the solution to everything.

“You are truly the whole package,” Newt salutes her.

“I know,” his beautiful wife replies impudently.

“Well,” he raises his glass, “to us.”

“To us,” she murmurs, and they drink.

* * *

After cleaning up the mess they made, Newt and Tina head to their bedroom. Newt changes into his pajamas; Tina brushes her hair. He watches her, smirking, and she smacks him lightly with the comb. “You don't look much better,” she tells him: they both appear as though they've got nasty cases of dandruff. It's too late to shower, though, so she does her best and resolves to wash off in the morning.

“You are beautiful,” he says by way of response, doing up the last button and slipping into bed next to her. It's weird, going to sleep at the same time. A familiar sort of weird, but weird nonetheless.

“Thank you,” Tina murmurs, and curls up close to Newt.

To her surprise, he presses a small square of folded parchment into her hand. She frowns, unfolds it, and then slides into a sitting position against the headboard to read. Newt stays flat on the pillow, watching her with his hand resting lightly on her knee.

 

> _Dear Tina,_
> 
> _I don't know where to begin except to say that I am terribly sorry for the way I have been acting towards you. I am a foolish man given to folly, and I hope you can find it in you to forgive me. I was blinded by distractions and lost sight of what truly matters._
> 
> _We used to be so very concerned about ‘deserving’ one another but if either of us does not deserve the other, it is me who does not deserve you. You have given me more than I could have ever hoped for in a friend, a wife, and a family._
> 
> _I realise that I have not told you in some time, so let me tell you now how much I love you._
> 
> _Tina, I am truly, madly, deeply in love with you. You are the most fascinating, beautiful, and brilliant woman I have ever met. I do believe I got extraordinarily lucky with you — the luckiest man on earth, without a doubt. Those feelings will never change. _
> 
> _You are my best friend and my partner in crime. You have shown me what it is to love and to live. I do not know exactly what I was doing before I found you, but it was most certainly a waste of time._
> 
> _This letter is a bit all over the place, but you do seem to be partial to things and people being a bit all over the place, if your choice in husband is any indication._ _I may not know much, but I do know this: everything will be alright, if only I have you by my side._
> 
> _Every day, I'm yours, for as long as you'll have me._
> 
> _If you ever doubt, which I dearly hope you never will — that I will never make you — please read this letter, and look at[the ring on your finger](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/21064766), and perhaps you will understand even a fraction of what I feel for you. _
> 
> _I have loved you from the very first day. And I will love you til the last. With everything I have._
> 
> _Yours always,_
> 
> _[Your eccentric magizoologist](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/20955185) _

Well, then. Tina doesn't know what to think, except that she very much wants to express the depth of her gratitude somehow. (A number of possibilities come to mind.)

“I really am sorry,” Newt murmurs.

“Sophia would throw _up_ if she saw this,” Tina says, but a smile is blooming on her face.

“Then we must make sure she never does,” Newt affirms, stroking the curve of her cheek.

“I can't believe it took you this long to write your poor wife a love letter,” Tina continues lightly.

“As soon as I acquire a Time Turner, I shall go back in time and rectify that error, then,” he pledges. She rolls her eyes; he's so lovably ridiculous sometimes. Most of the time.

“Yeah, don't bother saving the world or anything,” she says dryly.

“Oh, it’s alright,” Newt responds airily, tugging her down into his arms so she can rest her ear over his heart. “You see, _you_ are my world.”

[Hadn't he said that, on one of their first days together](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/20986904)?

 

> _“Not the world, just me,” Tina replies._
> 
> _“Yes, well, same difference,” Newt says._

Coming from anyone else, it would sound contrived. But Newt... she knows how much he worried over the years, that if he became too successful, it might go to his head. That he might lose himself. And she knows how stressful it has been for him to stumble upon and develop the confidence to, well, _flirt_ with his own girlfriend, how disconcerting it was the first time he reached for her without being prompted.

“You're mine too,” she confesses, gazing up at him. [He had said once that he wasn't used to being looked at like he mattered](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/21285059) — used to being needed, being something _precious,_ being wanted. But Tina does want him, does need him, with every fiber of her body and being.

“I'm sorry, but I feel obliged to point out — I don't see any love letter from _you,”_ he says with a hint of genuine indignation that makes Tina’s heart do peculiar things it hasn't done in far too long.

“Then let lips do what hands do,” she quotes, referring to their fairytale _Romeo and Juliet_ days, and wonders briefly at the strange look that crosses his face. Of all the books that they've read together over the years, that one line always stuck out somehow. It was so absurd, and she always told Newt that even _his_ pickup lines were better than that. Those were the best of times.

She thinks they can get them back.

She thinks they can fall in love again.

Newt is watching her with some unnameable emotion in his eyes that gives her goosebumps. “Let lips do what hands do,” he echoes softly, and turns off the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone catch the "Truly Madly Deeply" reference? I love that song.
> 
> I mean, if anyone wants to write some sort of smutty makeup sex to accompany this and gift it to me... by all means.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which progress continues to be made, and Sophia is nice to Newt for once.
> 
> “Did you have any idea we’d end up here?” Tina asks over dessert.
> 
> “I think deep down, I dared to hope,” Newt replies softly.
> 
> “Me too,” Tina confesses after a moment of reflection. And after the time they spent together, battling and solving mysteries and running into danger... cliché as it may have been, how was she not supposed to fall head over heels for him?
> 
> They go home to the kids and spend the rest of the day as a family. It’s a delicate balance, maintaining a relationship while raising children, and it's harder to maintain than Tina previously thought. But she thinks, as she and Newt meet one another’s gazes over Ally and Graham — their greatest achievements — and butterflies erupt in her stomach once more, that they can do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone said they wanted Newt to work harder for Tina’s forgiveness. I mean, he wrote her a disgusting cavity-inducing love letter, but he's really making sacrifices here. 
> 
> If you're a new reader, welcome to the TWMLLO fam :P you don't have to read my monstrous fic — I suspect that many people prefer reading the later, shorter, possibly better-written works — but it gives background for Sophia and essentially Newt and Tina's history in this universe.

Tina wakes up at nine o’clock the following morning. Seeing as she’s been allowed to oversleep by a couple hours, she assumes that Joanna must have arrived early as an act of kindness (or mercy). Usually, three times a week — including today — Tina goes to work at around 1:30 after putting the kids down for a nap and passing the baton to their nanny.

She doesn’t hear the children; Joanna probably took them to the park, offering Tina some much-needed alone time. It occurs to her that Newt was likely behind all of this, knowing how stressed and exhausted she’s been. After the past few months, she really appreciates it. That and the fact that he’s gone back to showing concern to her. Things are looking up.

Given the generous timeframe, Tina spends far too long getting out of bed and throwing on her house robe. When she’s done, she opens the door and heads for the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Newt says pleasantly.

Tina yawns and rubs her eyes, then starts. “What are you doing here?!” She checks the clock: it isn’t wrong, she's sure of it, and Newt was supposed to be at work hours ago.

He stands and presses a mug of coffee into her hands, then kisses her on the forehead. “I got the week off.”

Tina gapes. “What?” He smiles at her. “Newt, you just got the dragons, you were planning to stay late anyway, and I don’t mind, Joanna’s coming today so I can go to work —”

He shakes his head. “Nothing is worth neglecting my family. Not even work. Besides, Sophia agreed to cover for me.”

Though she took it upon herself to start her own science journalism company with a concentration in magizoology, Sophia has in equal parts scared and charmed the pants off of Newt’s staff. There is certainly no questioning her authority at this point: armed with a clipboard and acerbic remarks towards incompetent employees, she rules the place and shows up whenever she pleases, while Newt hides away with the nifflers and pretends he isn't slightly scared of a four-foot-eleven (for she still hasn't gotten any taller) journalist.

Despite knowing that everything is in more than capable hands, Tina isn’t convinced. It would be one thing if this wasn’t such a busy time and Newt wasn’t still playing catch-up from yesterday’s disasters, but for him to take time off of work now is a _massive_ sacrifice. “The dragons, though...”

He’s adamant. “They’re just dragons, Tina.”

Never, in a million years, would anyone _ever_ suspect those words to come out of Newt Scamander’s mouth. His work is his livelihood; he cherishes his creatures as much as he cherishes his own children. Tina gawks at him. _“Just_ dragons? Are you sure?”

Newt sighs and wraps his arms around her waist. “Queenie did warn me you might be this way.”

Of _course_ he talked to Queenie. Not living with her sister anymore makes it a lot more difficult for Tina to keep tabs on when the siblings-in-law are conspiring.

Before Tina can argue further, Ally and Graham burst out of the playroom, chattering excitedly. They’re freshly bathed, dressed, and grinning ear to ear. “You got them ready?” she asks incredulously. It’s been ages since Newt has done that; usually, he’s gone before the kids are even fully awake.

“Grammy is _not_ too fond of brushing his teeth,” Newt replies, hoisting the three year old up onto his lap. “But we figured it out eventually.” He tickles his son, who giggles, and then looks warmly at his wife.

“Thank you,” she says gratefully. _I mean, it’s the least he could do,_ a snarky voice says in the back of her head. It’s going to take longer than one night to fully address the damage that’s been done to their relationship, and if she didn’t know Newt so well she would doubt the sincerity of his letter... but it’s a start.

A whole week, though?

“A whole week,” Newt affirms, interpreting her expression, then winks at Ally, who runs into the pantry and emerges with a picnic basket. “How would you like to have a picnic?”

Tina frowns. “It’s a work day, I can’t —”

“I may have asked Shawn a favor.” Shawn Emerson is a personal recruit of Tina’s. He was on the older side when he joined the force, but bears a striking resemblance to Graham Woodcroft — the family visits his grave every year — in disposition. She knows that Shawn’s wife only _just_ had a baby, and as such he’s taken paternity leave. For him to come into work now is a massive sacrifice.

“What?!”

Newt grins, the smug sap. “He is going to cover your shift. You will still get paid.”

_“What?”_

“That particular part was not my idea,” he clarifies. “Shawn said that you seemed stressed lately — which I assured him was an accurate assessment — and that it was the least he could do. So... picnic?”

“Please, Mumma!” Ally cries.

Tina is still in a state of mild shock, but her kids are getting impatient and her husband is visibly anxious about her reaction, so she nods. “Give me a minute to change,” she concedes, putting the cup of coffee on the table and stooping down to kiss Ally and Graham en route to her room. When she comes out, the children have their shoes on, Newt is carrying the picnic basket, and it’s a beautiful picture. What more could she want, honestly?

Her husband's comment about Leta stung, and it still resonates. But can she honestly say that, in a fit of anger, she might not mention Alec as well? He was as much of a taker as Leta.

Newt, watching her, looks positively agonized. She's punished him enough, hasn't she? Besides, this is about family now.

Tina stops herself from apologizing — _she_ has nothing to apologize for — and simply walks over and loops her arm through her husband’s, who relaxes.

The picnic is lovely, the children are well-behaved for once, the weather is gorgeous, and things slowly progress towards something like “normal.” Newt still looks at Tina like she’s the world, and she’s starting to suspect that she’s watching him the same way. They almost fell out of love without realizing it. But falling back _in_ love is certainly an easy task, and the Auror finds that as their conversation becomes more natural, she remembers why she fell in love with her husband in the first place.

He’s quirky, and sweet, and the way he plays with Ally and Graham makes her heart swell. She fell for the tenderness with which he handled his creatures, the love with which he threw himself into his work, the unexpected determination that drives him to fight for what’s right. He was odd and awkward when they met. He stammered, and didn’t quite know what to do with himself, and he had a hideous Hufflepuff scarf to boot — but Tina liked him. She liked him from the start, whether she cared to admit it or not.

“Are you alright?” Newt cuts into her train of thought.

“Sorry,” Tina apologizes, then, on impulse, leans over and kisses him.

“Yuck,” Ally says, crinkling her nose.

“Mumma’s mine,” Graham insists, clambering over Newt to sit on Tina’s lap.

“Is she now?” Newt asks, and crosses his arms in a challenge. “Shall we battle it out, then?”

“No!” Graham shouts, chortling as Newt lunges and starts tickling him mercilessly. The magizoologist sweeps his son into the air, standing up and turning him upside down and sideways, before tossing him onto his shoulders, where Graham grabs Newt’s hair and tugs.

“Must they be so loud?” Ally complains primly, crossing her own arms in a splendid imitation of her father. Tina stifles a snort.

“Since when have you become a lady?” Tina returns.

“I’m always — hey!”

Tina snatches up her daughter too, grinning as Ally fights against her, but within seconds the little girl has joined in the fun and is laughing hysterically herself.

“Catch me, Mumma! Catch me!” Graham yells. Newt and Tina exchange amused looks, and on the count of three toss each child to the other. Graham and Ally are getting big, and by next year will no doubt be too heavy for these types of fun and games (sans magic, of course), but it only makes Tina cherish the moment all the more.

After a few hours in the park, Joanna comes by to pick up Graham and Ally so that Newt and Tina can have lunch together. While on their “date” — the first one in ages — they stop themselves from talking about the kids and instead have real, intellectual conversations about the war, Newt’s future plans, and MACUSA’s current strategy. Queenie had warned Tina from the start: it's common for marriages to experience some strain once the couple starts a family, because all they talk and argue about are their children. Their lives no longer revolve around their own relationship. It's time, Tina and Newt decide, to break that pattern.

“Did you have any idea we’d end up here?” Tina asks over dessert.

“I think deep down, I dared to hope,” Newt replies softly.

“Me too,” Tina confesses after a moment of reflection. And after the time they spent together, battling and solving mysteries and running into danger... cliché as it may have been, how was she not supposed to fall head over heels for him?

They go home to the kids and spend the rest of the day as a family. It’s a delicate balance, maintaining a relationship while raising children, and it's harder to maintain than Tina previously thought. But she thinks, as she and Newt meet one another’s gazes over Ally and Graham — their greatest achievements — and butterflies erupt in her stomach once more, that they can do it.

* * *

Tina still needs to work the next day — and owes Shawn a big thank you — leaving Newt to play stay-at-home dad. She lets him sleep in and asks Joanna to keep an eye on the kids until he wakes up. As such, when he drags himself into a sitting position at ten o’clock, the first thing he sees is a folded note on his bedside table. Rubbing his eyes blearily, head still in a drowsy fog, he unfolds it.

> _Dear Newt,_
> 
> _Here's your love letter. I know you were kidding, but it's pretty overdue in my opinion. But I’m not as good as you as being romantic, so sorry in advance. Queenie advised me to just be honest. That I can do._
> 
> _Newt, before you, I didn't really know what I was doing with myself. I wasn't happy, not really. I think I was just drifting around, looking for something to do - looking for you._
> 
> _Then I found you and, well, a lot happened. But you stayed. And because of you, I learned to trust again. That's no small feat. For you it may have seemed easy to waltz in with your stupid British accent and stupid face and your stupid work shirts and sweep me off my feet. But it wasn't easy._
> 
> _Queenie had given up on me before we met. She figured I was destined to be single, gloomy and alone, because I refused to let anyone in. The day you and I met, she claims, she knew something had changed._
> 
> _(Emphasis on “claims.” Sometimes I think motherhood has made her a bit too holier-than-thou, but then again you and I just got chewed out by our four year old, so maybe I could do with some of whatever she's got.)_
> 
> _I don't think you really get it, sometimes. The degree to which you changed me, permanently, for the better. You really are my better half and I would be lost without you._
> 
> _I love you._
> 
> _Yours forever,_
> 
> _Tina_
> 
> _P.S. I forgive you._

Newt doesn’t know what to say, and thinks he may be dreaming. He reads the letter over again, just to make sure. The thing is, Tina isn’t exceptionally romantic, and he never would have asked her to do this for him in return. But she wasn’t forced into it, he reminds himself sternly, and as Sophia has warned him, if he continues to punish himself and beg for forgiveness, he’s going to be in serious danger of tipping over into over dramatic, whiny, angsty territory.

So he takes it for what it is. He’s certainly learned from his mistake; though he will no doubt have many, many long and stressful days in the future, he will do everything within his power to ensure this never happens again. Even if it means simply going for a walk and coming home late, when he’s calm enough not to take it out on his family — which is what he should have done in the first place, if he’s being honest.

With his newfound freedom, Newt makes himself some breakfast and sits down to pore through a recent publication, jotting down notes. An owl arrives several hours later, cuffing him on the head rather rudely.

“Sophia,” Newt groans, because of _course_ she would have the most annoying owl in the planet, which has a worse attitude than its owner. It plops itself on the edge of Newt’s mug and glares at him.

_Hope you’ve pulled it together. I fired your new intern. Come by the office when you have a chance._

_-S_

_Oh, bugger._ How much damage can she possibly have done? A lot, probably. It turns out later, however, that the intern had almost poisoned the nifflers and tried to fly a recovering dragon, so Sophia was certainly the best one to shout at him for _that._ Shaking his head and refusing to dwell on staffing issues, Newt grabs his wallet, firmly shoves Sophia’s owl out the window, and heads into the city.

“So, things are good with Teen?” Sophia asks, lounging in her chair like she lives here (which, frankly, she does).

“Yes. I think so,” Newt replies. She chucks a balled up piece of paper at him. He tosses it back to her.

“You can be a real sap, you know that?”

“You may have mentioned it a time or two.”

Sophia grins. “I’m glad you figured it out. So you’re back to...” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“No. Absolutely not,” Newt says sternly, pointing his wand at her even as he blushes. “You do not make those insinuations to me.”

His infuriating sister raises her hands in mock surrender. “If you say so. I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I’m sorry, did you need something?” Newt returns, eager to change the subject.

“Oh, no,” Sophia says airily.

Newt frowns at her. He knows there’s something. “Please do not tell me you’re pregnant.”

She scoffs. “No. Never doing _that_ again.”

Newt slumps against the chair in relief. “Thank Paracelsus.” Sophia, as one could imagine, had been positively _miserable_ throughout her pregnancy, so much so that Newt seriously considered going abroad until Cassie was born. By month eight, Queenie had sternly taken away Sophia’s wand and locked her in her apartment.

“Guess,” Sophia says mirthfully.

“Please don’t,” Newt begs.

“No, you gotta guess.”

“Is it something bad?”

“No. Who do you think I am? I’m never mean to you, _ever.”_

“That is not even slightly correct.”

Sophia waves dismissively, then leans over and kicks his ankle. “Guess!”

“Is it illegal? Please tell me it isn’t illegal.”

“Not this time.”

“Not this — what else have you done?”

“Nothing, nothing, not a thing,” she replies airily.

“You are lying —”

“Well, that about ends this meeting,” Sophia says. She yawns dramatically and stands up. “See you later, big bro.”

“You are _ridiculous,”_ Newt proclaims, reaching over and messing up her hair.

“Takes one to know one,” she retorts.

“Ever the creative one.” Newt receives only an eyebrow raise in return, which he takes as victory.

“Hey,” Sophia says before her brother walks off, “you're welcome.”

“For what?” If this is her trying to trick him into inadvertently agreeing to something _again..._

She shrugs. “Guess you'll have to wait and see, huh.”

“Soph!” he yells, grabbing her elbow when she moves to skip away.

“Tsk tsk,” she admonishes him, and pries his hand off her arm. “Birds in their little nest a — OI!”

Newt smacks her on the shoulder. “Sophia Adelaide Ollerton, if you —”

“Oh yeah? If I what?” She's standing akimbo now, eyes flashing. So they're playing _that_ game. “Did it ever occur to that brilliant mind of yours that I might, _on occasion,_ do something nice for you? I mean, jeepers, it's not like I offered free relationship counseling for years, or _saved your life._ Ring a bell?”

Before Newt can respond, Joanna walks in. “Joanna?” he asks, utterly confused now.

“She paid,” Joanna explains. “A week in full. She said that she hoped you and Mrs. Scamander might ‘get it together’ because ‘generosity ain't free.’ I was also instructed to give this to you.” She passes him an envelope. Inside are two tickets to a magical cruise ship.

“Sophia...” Newt says.

She beams and opens her arms for a hug.

“You are terrible,” he informs her, not for the first time.

“I know,” she responds happily. “That’s why you love me.”

Newt lets go of her and shakes his head in exasperation, but tucks the envelope into his pocket. “Thank you, Joanna,” he says, and then, just to irritate his sister, “goodbye, Soph.”

“Are you kidding me?” she says, gawking at him.

“Hmm? Ah. Thank you, Sophia,” he thanks her cordially. She swats him, then drags him into another suffocating hug. “I love you too,” he says, prying her off and grinning.

“Don’t get yourself killed!” Sophia calls as he leaves the building.

“Why on earth might I do that?” he asks innocently, pausing with his hand on the doorknob.

Sophia tosses the ball of paper at him again. “Dry up and get outta here,” she orders him.

With one last gratuitous “Thank you”, Newt does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like writing parent!Newtina (you can check out the [last chapter of Part of the Job](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10428960/chapters/24480204) for an AU spin), but I promise to still bring it back to Newtina as well.
> 
> All that's left now is the epilogue, which should be up by this weekend. So glad to have finally been able to post this :) I hope my returning readers enjoy, and if you're a new reader, welcome!


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who are you gonna marry?” Tina asks.
> 
> “Ally!” Graham replies.
> 
> Tina smiles. Queenie prompts, “And why is that?”
> 
> “Because Mumma’s taken.”
> 
> Newt wraps his arm around Tina. “Sorry, Grammy,” he says contritely, then kisses Tina on the cheek and whispers “Not particularly” in her ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!

When Newt and Tina return from their trip a week later, Mission Fall Back In Love complete, they're greeted by Queenie, who's magically managing her own rambunctious twins  _ and  _ niece and nephew. Then again, she's just practically perfect when it comes to motherhood, so Tina has learned to stop asking questions and just be grateful.

“You're sweet, Teen,” Queenie says, eyes crinkling up in a smile. “But I ain't perfect. Ask Newt.”

Before anyone can say anything further, the Scamander children turn around from where they were cawing at a seagull, light up, and hurtle towards their parents. Somehow they manage to execute a four-way hug without strangling one another; Queenie watches fondly and thanks the universe for Newt’s existence in her sister’s life. While Graham clings to his parents, Ally, who’s already growing out of her clingy stage, looses herself from her daddy’s arms to join Nessa and Zaze. They're thick as thieves, the three of them, and Tina and Queenie are both positively thrilled (and a bit emotional, at times) [to see their children experiencing the joys of extended family that they never really did.](archiveofourown.org/works/9676955/chapters/24525258)

“Did you have fun with Auntie?” Tina asks Graham, kneeling down and giving him a big hug. 

“Oh, we had a ball,” Queenie says, beaming. Then, mischievously, “Ask him who he’s gonna marry.”

“Who are you gonna marry?” Tina asks. 

“Ally!” Graham replies. 

Tina smiles. Queenie prompts, “And why is that?”

“Because Mumma’s taken.”

Newt wraps his arm around Tina. “Sorry, Grammy,” he says contritely, then kisses Tina on the cheek and whispers “Not particularly” in her ear. She is mildly embarrassed at the fact that she giggles. Queenie looks delighted.

“I can keep ‘em for a little longer, if you want time to settle into the house again,” she offers with a suggestive twinkle in her eye.

“Queenie!” Tina hisses disapprovingly, glancing over at the kids as though they’ll somehow hear and pick up on the subtle insinuation.

“We missed our family,” Newt says, wrapping his arm around his wife. “But thank you. Ally!” he calls. She and the twins glare at him for ruining their fun, but Ally knows better than to argue with Dad, and thus plods over rather sullenly.

“I wanted to play,” she objects when she joins her parents and aunt.

“Can you have dinner tonight?” Tina asks Queenie. In some cases, at least, the mighty Auror has proven to be the soft one. If her kids want to make friends and spend time being  _ kids  _ and not wandering around starving and cold, far be it from her to stop them.

“I’ll ask Jacob,” Queenie replies, running a hand absentmindedly through Nessa’s hair as she comes to lean back against her mother. “Oh, stop it,” she scolds Zaze when he threatens to jump off the pier.

“Nessa, come on!” he shouts.

“Agnieszka,” Queenie says sternly. Nessa sighs and reaches for her mother’s hand instead, where she slips Queenie’s wedding ring on and off.

“It’s  _ hot,”  _ Zaze complains. He comes over to Queenie and wipes his sweaty brow on her blouse.

“You little rascal!” she gasps, then seizes him by the wrist and pushes Nessa off of her. “I’ll send you an owl,” she tells Tina. Zaze tries to pry himself from her grasp; with all the strength of an unyielding mother, he isn’t going anywhere. “I’m real pleased for you, Teen,” Queenie adds, and kisses her sister on the cheek before dragging her twins towards the exit.

“Least we aren’t like  _ them,”  _ Ally comments, wrinkling up her nose.

Newt raises an eyebrow at her. “Says she who copies every single thing your cousins do.”

Ally, holding onto her father’s hand, leans backwards and attempts to walk up his leg.

“Don’t break Daddy’s knee,” Tina requests politely. She takes Graham by the hand, Ally stops trying to use Newt as a jungle gym, and together they walk out of the pier.

_ ~fin~ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone who's finished this! (I think that since I went inactive, everyone unsubscribed, because I've only had a few comment consistently on any of my fics. It's a shame, but thank you @ those commenters for being fantastic.)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed my one-shot-turned-multi-chap :) I have loads more fics in this series as well, which I'm excited to post now that I've completed all but _[Will I Wait a Lonely Lifetime](archiveofourown.org/works/9453746/chapters/21388643)_ in this series.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're new to this universe, definitely go check out the main fic, _[Then Will My Love Linger On](archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/20955185)_!


End file.
